


A Ferelden Education

by Kosho



Series: A Poor First Attempt At School AUs [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anders Is A Good Student, Anders Needs a Hug, Awesome Varric Tethras, Bed Sex, Bedroom Sex, Cullen Smut, Custom Hawke, Drunk Hawke, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fenris Needs a Hug, Handcuffs, Homework, Host Clubs, Isabela Is A Stripper, Light Bondage, M/M, Making Out, Minor Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexy Zevran, Shameless Smut, Sharing a Bed, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Sweet Zevran Arainai, Teacher-Student Relationship, There's A Tag For That, Varric Tethras Writes, Varric Tethras is a Good Friend, Varric Tethras' Nicknames, Work, Young Anders, Zevran Arainai Flirts, Zevran Arainai is a Good Friend, Zevran being Zevran
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-21 06:52:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho
Summary: Two months into the first semester of the first year, and life at the University of Ferelden is getting complicated. No one ever said it should be easy, but that didn't happen to include being involved with the Council. You'd be forgiven for assuming the Dean was in control, but after his untimely death, responsibility changed hands, and the Council ended up with the bulk of the power, and no one could really understand why. With the addition of the newest member, Aria Lavellan, there were three. Calla Mahariel had been the first, and then there was Quinn Hawke, the one and only human of the three. At first some complained that there were no Qunari on the Council, then the Dwarves threw in their complaints, but they were quickly forgotten. The Qunari mainly kept to the lunchroom as part of a plot to claim it for themselves. Most went out for lunch anyway and didn't care, but the Tevinter students decided to fight for it, presumably out of spite. The Dwarves preferred the basement, even foregoing the option of dorms in favor of living down there. Maker only knew why.Life at the university promised to be strange, at least.





	1. The System At Work

**Author's Note:**

> In this, most of the students will be around 21. I'm going to try to include as many characters as I can, though the main focus will be on the Warden/Champion/Inquisitor. After the first chapter, I'm going to alternate characters. There will be smut, probably a lot, both graphic, non and implied, depending on the focus. I'm not experienced with writing AUs, but I welcome feedback.

“No, not again.” Calla said. “Do your own studying for once.” 

 

“I had a date last night, there was no time.” Zevran said. 

 

“It wasn't me. What's the point of being together if all you do is ask for my notes and sleep around?” She grunted. 

 

“I don't anymore...this place isn't free, they just pay me to take them out.” He sighed. “Besides, I think I do more than just that. Or are you saying that screaming was for show? You left evidence.” 

 

He gestured to his back in emphasis. Calla rolled her eyes, shoving her notebook into his hands, face redder than the trim on the uniforms. 

 

“Fine! Just...fine…” she mumbled, the whole school probably knew about that by now anyway. Her own fault for dating someone who was rather vocal about it all. “Look...stop by tonight and I'll help you study for the test. You can at least do your own work once, right?” 

 

“Mm, but studying is so boring. If perhaps you'd help me with that, I could be persuaded.” He said with a far too suggestive smirk.

 

“I guess, if that's what it takes. Just remember I have to get to sleep early. Archery practice tomorrow.” Calla reminded him. 

 

“My dear, if you couldn't hit an insect in the eye at a hundred meters by now, I'd be shocked. Do you really need so much ‘practice’? Or perhaps it is the instructor you enjoy so much.” He said with a laugh. “Not that I mind, she  _ is _ easy on the eyes.”

 

Once supposedly a sister, Leliana, the Archery instructor, was practically a goddess with a bow, and she was a little bit enchanted by her prowess, that was no lie. She  _ was  _ attractive as well, but it had never once crossed her mind in the way he thought. 

 

“I admire her strength and grace. Nothing more or less than that.” She said flatly. 

 

“That's too bad. I've found plenty of teachers have interesting lessons to teach beyond the curriculum.” Zev said with a shrug. 

 

Was there anyone he didn't consider off limits? There were rules for a reason, right? Sometimes she wondered why she fell for him in the first place. Then again, despite his casual attitude, he usually found ways to remind her. Zevran quickly scrawled her notes in his notebook, copying the actual assignment on the next page. Handing it back, they found their seats, seconds ahead of the bell. 

 

The professor was an older woman, a mage. Wynne was fairly patient and kind, but she didn't tolerate disruption. She scanned the roster, eyeing the room with heavy scrutiny. 

 

“I see Mr. Hawke is suspiciously absent again.” She muttered. Glancing to the pages on her desk, there was an assignment turned in, and a paper stapled on top. ‘I'd have a letter from a parent if I had any, sorry to skip out but I've got shit to do. Stay cool, teach. -Quinn Hawke. P.S. Here's the homework.’ “Sighing heavily, she shook her head. “I'd like to know what that boy finds more important than education.” 

 

Across the city, Hawke kicked back in his seat, across from his less than enthusiastic boyfriend and as of recently, roommate, Anders. Anders nursed a pitcher of beer, his head resting flat on his palm. Hawke seemed to be having a great time wasting his monthly budget on this woman for the third night in a row. Isabela, he was tempted to think her name was. Billed as ‘The Captain’, he scoffed inwardly, Captain of what? It was well known she was popular here, yet for all the money she made, she squandered it away just as quickly. Yet another person trying to live beyond their means. 

 

“You know, you're spending a fortune on learning, wouldn't it be wise to actually  _ attend _ your classes at least a few times a week?” He asked. 

 

“Someone’s in a mood. Does your friend want a dance too? On the house, you  _ are _ my favorite after all.” She offered with a wink. 

 

“ _ Boyfriend.”  _ Anders corrected grumpily. “No. I don't want a dance.” 

 

“Oh come on babe…I know you appreciate women too, she's gorgeous, look at these curves. You can't tell me you're not a little interested.” He said, slapping her ass appreciatively before adding another ten dollar bill to her panties. “Babe, don't be mad at me…” 

 

Frankly, he wasn't sure how Anders had managed to get accepted, his last year of high school, the stress had gotten to him, and he torched a church. He had a record, but apparently his intellect alone was pretty amazing, and they courted him as a candidate, no application needed. 

 

“I  _ am _ mad. You should be in class, besides, as a  member of the Council, you should at least try to set a good example.” He muttered, taking a drink. 

 

Quinn tore his eyes from her long enough to give him  _ that _ look, the one that said he had no room to talk about setting good examples. Still, he knew the right buttons to push to get him back on track. 

 

“If you're not in class with me tomorrow, I swear I'll hide your mattress and make you sleep on the sofa. And I'll be naked, and you can't share mine.” He threatened. 

 

Quinn admitted defeat. “Sorry, looks like I won't be seeing you tomorrow after all.” 

 

“He's got you by the short ones, that's rough.” She chuckled. 

 

Quinn pulled out his cellphone, firing off a quick text. 

 

_ Varric, not gonna make it tonight. Can you make sure my Council shit is done? _

 

About to set it down, it buzzed.

 

_ Mahariel is on it. - V _

 

_ What about Lavellan, I thought she had the day off?  _

 

_ Buddy, she never has a day off. Her band, magic shit, extra paperwork, all those extracurriculars, her side job at the club, and teacher’s aide business. Poor kid doesn't know the meaning of taking a break. - V _

 

_ But wasn't she tutoring Fenris too? _

 

_ Yeah, I guess. Not sure how she does it. We should snag her for a night out sometime. - V _

 

Oh, that was a good idea. She already worked the club, maybe he could talk her into it. Get some drinks, maybe some cards. She was in a dance class for her group performances anyway, maybe she'd even loosen up enough to put those moves on display. Shit, he was a healthy, active man. Satisfied plenty with Anders, but that didn't stop him from noticing an attractive person on occasion. Lavellan was plenty hot, better curves than most elves seemed to have, eyes that seemed to stare into your soul and the sexiest lips he'd ever seen. Hell yeah he wanted to see what she could do with the spotlight. Too bad she didn't show it off more often. Too grown up for someone that young who should be out living instead of wrapping herself up in work. 

 

“Oh give it a rest already.” Anders huffed. 

 

“I didn't do anything!” He said.

 

“You have that stupid look on your face that you get when you're fantasizing about someone, you're practically drooling on yourself.” Anders said, pointing to his chin. 

 

“You're so adorable when you're jealous. As if I'd go for anyone else. Isn't that right, Is?” He asked. 

 

“Never put the moves on me. Never seen him in here with anyone but you.” She said with a shrug. 

 

“Lighten up a little. You have eyes, why not enjoy looking? I wouldn't even be mad if you touched a little. Just don't touch too much, or my sword will find itself stuck somewhere it shouldn't be.” Quinn said. 

 

“As if I could. Don't forget I'm busy too. You're the only one I'd make time for.” He mumbled. 

 

Anders made up the trinity of the medical staff. Wynne was the primary doctor, Anders the second, and Solas, who was mainly the Elven studies professor made the third, the one called on the least unless it was an especially interesting case. Anders also made up half of the disciplinary committee, ironically enough. That was going to be the Council’s responsibility, but Mahariel opted out, not interested in punishment, and Quinn? Too busy partying. Lavellan ended up bearing the brunt of that too. 

 

“Like anyone seriously gets hurt enough to warrant your constant care, and Lavellan deals out 95% of the discipline. You're a hell of a lot less busier than you claim to be.” Quinn said. 

 

“I've told her I don't mind doing more, but she insists. As far as my medical responsibilities,  _ you  _ end up being my main patient, Mr. I-Can't-Stay-Out-Of-Trouble.” Anders said. 

 

Finishing his beer finally, he left some money on the table, pointing to the door. “Speaking of discipline, I have to check in and see if I'm needed.” 

 

“Wait, don't leave without me...I'll come with you. She's probably got it anyway.” He whined poutily. 

 

Aria stared at the list of things she had to do tonight. Work, several assignments, and helping to grade the papers for History. Hunched over her desk, she compared the paper she held with the spare answer key. A red pen wedged between her lips, she pulled it out to check a few wrong answers, putting it back. Andraste’s ashes, Sera...was the inappropriate doodle really necessary? One of her friends, certainly, but the way she never seemed to take anything serious was borderline annoying at times. Glancing up, she noticed the teacher watching her briefly. She felt her face heat up slightly, returning to her work. Aria hadn't spent a lot of time around humans before she came to Ferelden, didn't think she was interested in them much, and of course it felt wrong to have a crush on her teacher. Professor Rutherford wasn't what most would call perfect, but to her, he was gorgeous, scar and all. That was a small part of the reason she agreed to be his aide in the first place. Mostly it was because, like her, he was busy. He didn't just teach academically, he also ran the gym class, a club on fighting techniques, one on proper swordsmanship, and assisted the mothers in the chantry group. When she came here, she had a devoted belief in the Creators, but thanks to the passionate way he spoke of his own beliefs, she'd found room to believe in the Maker as well, and attended when she scraped up the time. 

 

Finishing the last page, she closed the book, tapping the papers on the desk to straighten them. Placing them on the book, she got up from her desk, nervously making her way to the front. 

 

“I've finished these.” She murmured. 

 

“Ah, thank you. I appreciate the help.” He said with a smile. 

 

“It's no trouble. I enjoy staying busy.” She laughed. 

 

“That was all I had for you today. You're dismissed if there's nothing else?” He asked.

 

Turning to leave, she halted, nodding once when she remembered. “Right...I know you're really busy, but the report you assigned earlier, I don't quite understand. If you have time, I could use a little help with it.” 

 

He leaned back in his seat, examining his calendar. “You still have the syllabus, right? My number is there. I’m not sure when, but I'll be free later tonight if you'd like to go over it.” 

 

“I have work tonight…” she mumbled. “Ah! If you don't mind a bit of noise, you could stop by. I'll pay for your coffee?” 

 

“I'm not usually one for loud places, but I suppose I don't mind. Where is it you work again?” He asked. 

 

“I work at Rebellion. Tonight I'm working the coffee bar since it's amateur talent night. Most nights I'm in the booth.” She said. 

 

“You certainly do enjoy music, don't you?” He chuckled. 

 

“Oh, sir, I don't know that I could live without it.” She admitted. 

 

Aria scribbled her number down on a memo pad, handing it to him, so he wouldn't be confused if she texted him. He slipped it in his pocket, checking the clock on the wall quickly. 

 

“Alright. I'll meet you there in a little while. If you have it done, bring your outline, and any notes you took today.” Grinning, he added. “You pay attention, 'm sure you were very thorough.” 

 

Aria laughed, bowing her head politely. Wandering back out, her phone went off, buzzing in her pocket. 

 

_ Can edgy Aria come out to play? - V _

 

_ Can't tonight. I'm busy. Work, among other things.  _

 

_ I said ‘edgy’ not boring. Tomorrow night. Don't make any plans. Quinn reserved ‘Temptation’ tomorrow, and you're invited. Poker, drinks, and fun all around. - V _

 

_ I don't know...who else is going?  _

 

_ Quinders, Fenris, Bull, myself, Krem and Sera confirmed. Not sure who else. - V _

 

_ I'm not wearing shoes if I go.  _

 

_ Girly, do you  _ _ ever _ _? - V  _

 

_ Good point.  _

 

The uniform was decided for them, they had to wear it. There were minor alterations allowed though. Many of the Qunari women had been allowed to alter the cut of the jacket and blouse, and the elves, both Dalish and not were allowed to go without shoes if they chose to. Personally, she thought they were charming, but she missed the feel of earth under her feet that the cold, sprawling city pavement and marble flooring didn't give her. Her room however, had fine plush carpeting that felt quite nice. Thanks to her culture, even Rebellion didn't mind her going without, so long as, again, she wore the uniform. 

 

_ Yeah… I suppose I'll go then. But not too long, I need rest so I can make morning classes the day after.  _

 

_ You work too hard. One day of fun won't kill you, I promise. - V  _

 

_ Maybe not, but I'll text you later, have to get ready for work.  _

 

_ Sounds boring. Boooo - V  _

 

Aria put her phone back, heading to her room to get a quick shower in and put her hair up for her shift. Boring? That might be true, though that didn't explain all the invitations and letters finding her daily. She rarely had the time to accept anyway. Right, she had to text Calla later to have her drop off the meeting notes as well, some big festivity coming up that they were meant to plan. Quinn wasn't likely to show up in person, but somehow, they always had his feedback in some form or another. Where did he always get off to? Not once could she recall seeing him in class, but his homework was always done. Strange guy to say the least. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calla just wants to keep her life together, but Zevran always has ways to knock her off track.

Calla kicked back on her bed, flipping through a copy of the meeting notes. A spring theme...floral decorations, perhaps? Pastel…either way, everyone knew the one to ask when you needed to get something was Josephine Montilyet. Didn't matter how little time you had to get it or how hard to find it was, she had ways. No one quite knew how she pulled it off, but she'd never failed. Creators, she wished the others weren't so busy, trying to figure this out on her own was maddening. Zevran wandered out of the shower, letting the towel around his waist slip loose. He stretched out next to her, nibbling her ear in an effort to distract her. Aside from a faint moan she let slip, there was no reaction. Sighing, he reached for his book and his notes on the bedside stand.

“I get it, you're mad that I'm not being serious.” He sighed.

“What? Oh...I'm sorry. I was lost in my thoughts. Was there something you needed?” She mumbled distractedly.

“I suppose not.” He said.

“What makes you think of spring?” She blurted out.

“Spring? This bed. It's quite creaky. We could use a new one.” He said hopefully.

“I'm serious, I'd really like to know…” she pleaded.

“Ahh, you're going to make me think about this.” He relented, tapping his chin in thought. “Mud, wet grass. Rain. Those pretty dresses they sell, the short lace trimmed ones. And those flowers in the back garden, the little pink ones mostly.” He said.

“I can't use mud and wet grass…the dresses and the flowers might be useful. Oh, pink, white, maybe lavender for theme colors!” She said, hastily making notes as they came to mind. “You might have just made my life easier!”

“Do I get a reward?” He asked.

Calla turned just enough to give him a kiss, a yelp of surprise muffled against his mouth when he leaned against her, his hands buried in her hair. His tongue probed her mouth slowly. If this man put half the effort he put into trying to get her in the mood into his studies, he'd be much better off. Tapping his shoulder gently, he broke the kiss.

“If I give in, will you please try to focus?” She begged.

He straddled her waist eagerly, bending to nip at her neck, a little firmer at her throat, feeling her jolt under him.

“If you turn your phone off and really focus on me? Deal.” He said.

Called hissed out a slow breath. That was his way of saying no work allowed, they'd be busy for a few hours at least. Biting her lip while she mulled it over in her mind, she reluctantly reached for her phone, shutting it off. Zevran slid off her, rushing across the room to lock the door, returning to her side in record time. He acted like it was the first time in years, it was just a day or two…

-  
Calla barely had the energy to open her eyes to see the clock. She had to muster it somehow, she still had to get Lavellan the meeting notes, and make sure Hawke got an updated copy after that, Zev needed to study, and now she definitely needed a long soak in a hot bath. They'd been dating for years, since the beginning of high school, and somehow he still managed to pull out new tricks that left her head spinning. Pushing herself to sit up, she took a deep breath, fumbling for her chapter notes. Sweeping her sweat riddled hair back, she blinked a few times in an effort to concentrate.

“Alright, alright...let's see here...describe the Rite of Annulment and its function. I always felt weird about this subject.” She muttered. “Still, an easy enough question.”

Zevran slipped an arm around her waist, breathing hotly on the back of her neck. She shuddered, dropping her book, like her fingers had stopped working altogether. He quickly grabbed it off her lap, tearing away from her before she could process what he had just done. Rolling her eyes, she gave up. Hard to believe she actually fell for that again. Well, points for being good at that much at least…

“I'll just write this down, and I'll make it up to you, my Tiger Lily.” He purred.

He once told her the reason for that nickname wasn't strictly because of her vibrant orange hair or her faint freckles, but because he'd read it symbolized wealth, protection and pride. It fit he said, because she was his greatest treasure, the thing he wanted to protect with all he had and what he was most proud of. Back then, he was way more of a notorious flirt than he was now, and she had been quick to dismiss it. Now it served to remind her why she put up with his antics. He was a sweet man underneath the exterior, and that much, he saved for her. The idea of him making it up to her had her quickly shaking her head however.

“I'm not sure I can handle anymore…” she mumbled.

“What were you thinking? I meant a nice bath together, massage away all the soreness in your muscles, nothing more. Unless perhaps you wish for bubbles. That, I'd be more than happy to get for you.” He said innocently.

Calla nodded. “That does sound good. Maybe some of the lavender kind?”

He came back, bending to kiss her cheek. “A small matter. Let me finish up and I'll throw something on and get you some.”

Reaching for her phone, she turned it back on, mildly alarmed at the number of missed calls and texts. Palming her face, she groaned, transcribing her ideas, the minutes and other important details into a document on her phone, she sent it in a text to both Hawke and Lavellan, checking her voicemail to make sure she didn't miss anything important. Thankfully it just seemed like an awful lot of Hawke asking when she would send the info, teasing her for what he knew she must be up to, and Anders shouting apologies on his behalf in the background, the last of which was muffled in a way that said he must have clapped a hand over his mouth. He certainly had her sympathies. If Hawke was anything like Zevran, he must have his hands full dealing with the aftermath. Before she could consider it more, her phone fell to the bed, gasping in surprise at being lifted so suddenly. He had returned, quicker than she expected, depositing her gingerly in the bath. His clothes pooled at his feet, he stretched out behind her, his legs at her sides.

“Now now, no thoughts of work right now, you're supposed to relax.” He murmured in her ear.

He kneaded her shoulders in emphasis and she slumped forward with a groan of relief. Never let it be said he didn't have talented hands. He didn't have to be a mage for it to feel like magic, the way he could make every bit of stress and tension disappear with just a few moments. He went down her back, back up, over and along her shoulders, her neck, finishing with a light kiss to her head. His fingers thoughtfully probed the red marks on her neck, dipping under To fondle her hips where his fingers had bruised, caressing the outline of his teeth on her thighs. To anyone else it might seem like he was harder on her than she was on him, but the new scratches along his chest and shoulders begged to differ.

“Shall I come watch you tomorrow? I could cheer you on louder than anyone if you wish.” He offered.

“I'd like that, though maybe not the cheering, I'm sure I couldn't hit a thing. I'd be too busy staring at you.” She said with a smile.

“Ah, so even now I still call your attention, how flattering. Don't stroke my ego too much or I'm not sure I'll be able to resist ravishing you again. I'd hate to undo all my efforts to put you to sleep.” He chuckled.

“Speaking on that, I should wash up now before I fall asleep like this.” She sighed.

“Yes that would be a shame, truly.” He said.

Calla tried to finish up quickly, dressing lightly for the night. Frowning, she noticed even more texts when she reached the bed. She set it on the desk, nearly tossing herself into bed. Zevran curled up against her, kissing her cheek once more.

“Rest well, my love.” He murmured, nipping her ear.

“Ahh! Hmm…good night…” she squeaked.

Laughing to himself, he held her protectively against his chest, willing himself to wake up with her alarm instead of his usual time. He wasn't perhaps the most honest person in the school, but letting her down wasn't an option. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hawke's up next. Though I realize some chapters just won't have a solo focus, they'll pop up in each other's chapters after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Quinn tapped his pencil on his desk, eyeing the door periodically. He'd rather be anywhere but here. The bell hadn't even rung yet, who would even notice he'd ever been here at all if he just slipped out really quick? Anders shrugged, sending him a quick text, smirking to himself.

 

_ I know what you're thinking. Do it if you like, but you'll be the one missing out. - Cats _

 

Hawke opened the picture that came with it with a groan of frustration. 

 

_ You're very lucky I love you.  _

 

_ You're lucky I put up with you. _

 

_ … _

 

_ I love you too. - Cats  _

 

Hawke grinned to himself, pocketing his phone. What was an hour to him? A boring hour, but it wasn't all that long. A small price to pay to make sure he didn't have to spend a night alone on the couch without him. Besides, he still had the game to look forward to. He wasn't as good at poker as Varric, but he was equally sure Lavellan barely knew the rules, so he wouldn't be the worst player at the table, anyway. The bell rung, and he realized he was officially trapped. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure which class this was. 

 

“Ah. Well, well. Mr. Hawke decides to join us for once, today is a special day after all.” The professor said sarcastically. “For those that  _ haven't  _ missed class recently, you already recall we were in the middle of analyzing Genitivi.” 

 

Well, that answered that. Lit class. No problem. Quinn reached in the inside pocket of his blazer, pulling out a few folded pages. He dropped them on the corner of his desk. Hadn't even bothered to read anything, he just did the work. Who cared, his life wasn't going to collapse on itself if he didn't know shit about…

 

He snuck a glance at Anders’ book.  _ Stone Halls of the Dwarves.  _ Riveting stuff, certainly. Covering his mouth, he wrestled a yawn, fighting the urge to slump down in his seat for a nap. In just over half a day, he'd be sitting in Temptation, enjoying the best drinks Varric could afford, he had to remember to thank him again for adding him to his tab. Then there was the twist. Of course he'd never do anything with her, he wasn't that kind of man, but Varric rarely charged new players. The goal was to loosen her up? She'd learn quickly by the stock rules. He was looking forward to getting to see what she was like when she finally ditched the obligations and let her hair down. The teacher stopped by his desk, raising a brow in surprise as she collected his homework. He never understood the shock. His attendance might have been garbage, but he hadn't missed any assignments and beyond that, he had a pretty high average. It was no problem in his mind to spend his days how he wanted. Excitement was necessary for his survival. He'd wither and die if he had to deal with being bored like this every day. 

 

Anders shot him another look, but instead of deterring him, it only made him wander off further. He gave him shit for how wild  _ he  _ was, but he forgot frequently that Anders was the least controlled of both of them when school wasn't part of the equation. After all, it wasn't  _ his _ suggestion to skip gym to get hot and heavy in the showers. Or under the bleachers...behind the university in the gardens. The second floor hallway after curfew...then there was the backseat of his car during the welcoming ceremony. He wasn't deterred by the possibility of getting caught, he liked the danger actually. Still not his idea however, he was completely fine with a night in getting tangled in the sheets. 

 

Hawke snuck a quick glance at his texts, frowning. So he was responsible for making sure the auditorium was arranged and making sure they had enough tables and refreshments…what the hell did that leave for Lavellan to do? Right...part of her job was DJing at Rebellion, she was probably in charge of music. That was both good and bad. She liked music, she'd be happy, but that meant she likely made no plans to take anyone. He knew at least two people that planned on asking her, both would just have to be disappointed. He'd offer, but he was already spoken for. Besides, who else would bring the party? He knew better, very few people would be put off by a little bottled awesome in the punch. Nothing too strong, no point in getting Anders in a bad mood because he messed up again. 

 

Glancing up, he was looking at him again. He'd fix that. He winked at him, sticking his tongue out, flicking it a few times, enough to make him blush and turn away quickly. He had gotten his tongue pierced as an apology some months ago, and knew he could pull that response from him just with one look. He switched his usual black bar out for the vibrating one, the one that left him shaking. Now he'd get off his back for a bit with that image embedded in his mind. He smirked, watching the way he reflexively squeezed his thighs together, burying his face in his book. Lunch was coming up, maybe he'd make it up to him instead then. There was a slim chance he'd even let him skip out on Orlesian Politics if he promised to make it really worth his time. Then again, since they had a busy night planned already, he might insist he go to the rest of his classes. He wouldn't bother if he thought he was bluffing, but Anders absolutely  _ would  _ make good on his threat if he didn't listen. There was a time a week or two back where he was told to make an appearance under threat that he'd hide his clothes, knowing even he wasn't stupid enough to brave the campus nude. He decided he was just testing him, and he returned later to find his clothes missing, and Anders acting like he had absolutely no idea what could have happened to them. Guess that was the penalty for messing with a mage. 

 

The bell rang again and he bolted out of his seat, only to be snagged by the collar before he got away. Anders brought a hand to his hip, forcing a smile. 

 

“You aren't thinking of leaving, are you?” He asked. 

 

“Actually, I was planning to race you to the roof first. Thought we'd spend our break up there.” He suggested. 

 

“What then?” He questioned. 

 

“Uhh...well, after that, I kind of hoped you'd want to miss the next class.” He mumbled. 

 

“Better be one hell of a lunch break, or I'm marching you to class myself. If you skip that, you're going to gym, better decide what you dislike more.” Anders said. 

 

“I'm not missing a chance to see that.” He told him. 

 

“I thought not. I see you watching, I know how to keep your attention where it belongs.” He said proudly. 

 

“On your ass?” Hawke wondered. “Because that's where I'm looking, about 90% of the time.” 

 

“Yes, on my...what?” He muttered in disbelief. “Come on, let's go. If we're going to do this, we should hurry. Time’s wasting.” 

 

Hawke dashed out of the room and up the stairs, shocked when Anders blazed past him. Quicker on his feet than he looked, ic he didn't step it up, he'd get there way ahead of him. The countdown was quickly forgotten now that his focus was elsewhere. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm a weak willed person, each pairing gets a smut chapter next >< totally skippable, so no worries.


	4. Chapter 4

Lavellan stared in horror as she checked her texts from the night before. Most of the gathering was all a blur, and save for a few picture texts from Sera, and a few short video messages, it was the text she sent that had her absolutely ready for the void to open up and take her any moment. Trying to piece it together, she whimpered at the pounding in her head, making her way to the bathroom to try and get ready for class. How on earth was she supposed to face him  _ now _ ? If she strained a little, she was sure she could put the events in a somewhat coherent order…

 

-

 

The opportunity to dress down was rare, settling on something comfortable, the most comfortable undergarments she had, a plain black top, black shorts and her Dalish made leggings, also in black. What? Stains didn't show as much on black. It was a smart choice. Everyone was already there by the time she arrived, seated mostly as usual, Quinn draping himself over Anders’ lap, Varric and Bull in the middle, Krem and Sera at the end, and surprisingly, Merrill had shown too, the only person that got out  _ less _ than she did, but that was because her lack of knowledge on human culture made her anxious, cautious about making mistakes. The drinks came first, then the challenge, who could do the most shots in three minutes. Merrill actually won, to everyone's surprise. 

 

Varric dealt the rounds, and presumably out of some drunken idiocy, she agreed to the terms, lose a round, lose a piece of clothes. She woke up mostly dressed, down both leggings ,her shorts unfastened, probably not coordinated enough at the time to button them up again, and her shirt was on inside out, but she wasn't sure if it was because she lost it. No, that was right. By the time they called it quits, Hawke had lost everything, Anders draping the leather jacket he wore over his lap. 

 

The screeching she recalled was a result of some very off key karaoke, which she opted out of. Had to at least try to save her voice for practice. The bar was closing, the reason they parted ways, but the video clips suggested they'd encouraged her just enough to get on the table and dance, and it was terrible, uncoordinated and just a total embarrassment to her instructor. Somehow, she'd still ended up with a stain, peeling her whole shirt off to wash it in the bathroom before leaving. She was trying to send a text to Calla to ask if she missed anything important at the meeting, distinctly remembering texting it correctly. 

 

_ Hey, did I miss anything?  _

 

But tellingly, there in her sent messages was an absence of texts to Calla from the night before, a lone text that included a picture message she had been too nervous to check, sent to  _ Cullen _ , with the not so helpfully autocorrected words 

 

_ Hey Daddy, miss me? _

 

It always mystified her how her phone decided she didn't mean exactly what she typed, a confusion that now had her seriously about to skip class for the first time ever. When she finally gathered the courage to check the picture, she was devastated to find that while still just in her bra in the bathroom, she tried to use the camera to make sure she didn't look as strangely as she felt, it snapped a picture. Adjusting her blazer over her uniform, she decided not to pull her hair back, loose, it was to the middle of her back, a white that made her violet eyes pop. Down, it was some manner of barrier between her and his shame at her actions.

Her head kept down, she ended up reaching the class before anyone else, trying to hide in her textbook. Checking her phone, she rolled her eyes. Ten minutes ahead of the bell. Dread Wolf take her, she didn't care anymore. All this after a the night of studying between orders. Even after she understood, he'd hung around, talking to her about whatever came to mind. Who knew the next night would be her undoing. 

 

“Lavellan, could you come here a moment?” He asked quietly. 

 

She opted not to answer, keeping her head down, doing a slow shuffle like she was heading for the gallows, stopping beside him where he indicated. He handed her a stack of papers to pass out when class begun, not what she expected. Taking a chance, she looked up, her face bright red. He met her gaze for just a few seconds, averting his eyes quickly. She didn't see any of the things she expected in his eyes, in fact, he seemed almost as embarrassed as she was. Clearing his throat, he decided to address the issue. 

 

“I'm fairly certain that  _ wasn't  _ what you intended to send me. As a teacher, I shouldn't even be bringing this up, it's highly inappropriate. That being said…” he coughed nervously, shrugging a shoulder. “It was...quite nice.” 

 

“I didn't mean to call you daddy.” She blurred out, hiding in her hands. 

 

“I believe you.” He assured her. “There is one other matter.” 

 

“What might that be sir?” She mumbled. 

 

“I'm in a rather unique position, you're in several of my groups and classes, and you are an invaluable assistant. I'm curious about the way I keep seeing you look at me. Do you...think you can still deal with being around me after this? I can try to arrange someone else to teach you if you can't.” 

 

Her heart sunk a little bit, not getting to learn from him and indeed never getting to see him around felt like she was definitely being punished. 

 

“I can. Isn't it up to you, sir?” She asked quietly. 

 

“I can't.” He said. 

 

“May I ask why?” She managed.

 

“Even before that, I admit I've been unable to put you out of my thoughts. You've grown on me, and as I said, it's inappropriate, I shouldn't allow myself to think of you like that. Last night crossed a boundary I should remove myself from…” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can't do that. I have the worst things on my mind, I can't shake them off.” 

 

Aria paced anxiously, unsure what to say to get him to reconsider. Transferring her to private classes to avoid him wasn't just upsetting because she liked him, but it would raise questions, he could get in trouble, it could go on her academic record. This was trouble. 

 

“What if…” she began.

 

Hating himself for just a moment, he stood up, pressing her back against the board, kissing her. This was wrong, this might cost him his job. That was what his mind kept saying, and he meant to pull away until her arms folded at his nape. Deepening the contact, he sighed, relaxed until a sound in the hall brought him back to reality. He backed away guiltily, glancing to the clock. 

 

“It's nearly time for class. I'm sure you probably want to talk about that, and that's fine...I'm free during lunch, you're welcome to discuss it with me then.” He mumbled. 

 

Aria bit the inside of her lip. “I don't want to talk about it. Though...I  _ am _ willing to do  _ that  _ again…” 

 

He stared at her seriously. “You're really sure about that? I’m...I mean...that is to say, if this is going to lead anywhere, we really shouldn't let this get out. It's one thing off campus, it's quite another if we're seen here…” 

 

Would that count as an illicit affair? She always pictured herself as being serious with someone in the way that Mahariel and Hawke were, the idea of having a fling with her teacher should have given her pause, but it really didn't. 

 

“I'm sure.” She said, busying herself passing out the papers. “I'll be in at lunch.” 

 

Hell, he might even change his mind by then. She certainly wouldn't blame him, and technically he could claim she came onto him, even though it was an accident. Then again, they were both adults, it wasn't  _ really  _ hurting anything, right? There was so much to consider. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the bell ring until after it had stopped, snapping back to focus, she pulled her notes out of her desk, setting the book down next to it. Hungover and overthinking everything or not, she still had to pay attention, after all. The rules were clear, if any relationship were to happen publicly, it can only be the case if they aren't teaching any of the student’s classes. That was fair, and switching classes would technically solve the problem, but with their schedules? They'd never see each other. Sure, she could handle it in that case, she was grown, if it was only physical, that was alright...wasn't it? 

 


	5. Zev & Calla (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is pure smut, you can skip it. The only important detail of this chapter is that Zevran moved in to Calla's room now.

Finally the weekend was here. No classes to worry about, save for club activities, off campus work or personal business. The final box long hauled into the room,Calla kicked off her bottoms. Zevran had finally gotten the approval to move into her room instead of just sneaking in when no one was watching and sneaking out through the window most nights. He said she didn't have to help, but she wanted to. Zev tugged her down on the couch with him, pulling her legs over his lap with a smile.

 

“Let's take a break. I can't have my girl wearing herself out for my sake.” He said.

 

Calla snuggled against his chest, pulling one of his arms around her waist.

 

“I don't have practice again until Monday, and once this is done, I suggest we sit around and do nothing.” She sighed, nuzzling his chest.

 

“A wonderful plan, save one detail.” Zev said.

 

“What might that be?” Calla murmured, her eyes fluttering lazily.

 

“I have this irresistible...amazing...strong...sexy woman on my lap…” he purred, nipping at her neck between words. “I can't help but want to remind you how crazy you make me.”

 

She shivered visibly, clutching the sleeveless shirt he wore, shifting slightly. “How do you do that? You always know just what to say to make me feel special…”

 

“Please. I may toss lines at my clients, but with you, I only give you the truth.” He laughed.

 

“Couldn't that be a line?” She pointed out quietly.

 

“Sure, it could be, but I didn't fill out a book trying to move in with you for nothing. I had my own room, I _want_ to be with you, here.” He said reassuringly. “There's no one I desire more than you.”

 

His free hand curled under  the edge of her tank top, easing it up slowly. Lifting a leg, he carefully tilted her back, pulling it off completely. Calla’s cheeks turned rosy, her hands curling in his hair, keeping him close as he mouthed a path down her throat, nipping her collarbone, bypassing her breasts to continue down her stomach. Almost too close, she bit her lip. Smirking, he diverted his course. He circled her left nipple first, biting firmly, but not hard enough to hurt her. He tended the discomfort lovingly, his hands teasingly trailing down her body, caressing the sensitive ridges of her hips with feather light touches, Calla quivered. He switched to the right, sucking marks on her breast before biting again, dancing over her thigh, trying to drive her crazy.

 

“Zev, please...I can't …” she whined.

 

“Oh I know very well, you _can._ ” He chuckled.

 

Hooking his fingers against her underwear, he yanked them off, tossing the scraps aside.

 

“Zev, those weren't cheap…” she mumbled.

 

He brought a finger to her lips, sighing when she curled her tongue against it, sucking lightly. Pulling it free with a slight pop, he reached down, circling her entrance slowly before sliding it in, nipping her hips eagerly.

 

“Then allow me the absolute pleasure of buying you more. As many as you like, whichever you want...as long as you model them for me…” he teased.

Pulling his hand back, he kept his gaze on her, licking it clean, loving the way she blushed. He nodded towards the bed, grinning deviously.

 

“It's been some time since we really played. Can we?” He asked.

 

Calla said nothing, moving off the couch. Going to the bed, she waited patiently on the edge for him. He went to her dresser, pulling up the false bottom in the top drawer, gathering two coils of rope and two pairs of handcuffs. Leaning over her, he clasped the cuffs to the bed frame, the other ends to her wrists. Turning, he spread her legs, tying her ankles to the bottom frame. She was gorgeous, spread like this for him,

 

“Now, what do we say when we want to stop?” He questioned, stroking her thighs affectionately.

 

“Dandelion…” she said.

 

“Very good. Now…shall we begin?” He purred.

 

“Yes please.” She said with an eager nod.

 

“How could I refuse you?” He replied.

 

Without wasted movement, he slid back to lay between her legs, picking up where he left of, a second digit joining the first. Scissoring them inside her, she sucked in a sharp breath, watching him intently. Knowing she was waiting impatiently, he took his time, slowly probing her with far too gentle flicks of his wrist. The cuffs rattled, managing to forget for just a moment that she wouldn't be able to reach him.

 

“Don't torture me, I need you…” she whined softly.

 

“Torture? But we've barely begun, you can't be that impatient.” He teased.

 

His breath was hot against her thighs, close, too close not to hope for more, but not close enough, not yet. He bit fresh marks along her thighs, not satisfied until they were bright red, adding in a third finger, watching the way her eyes squeezed shut, the way she arched against the bed, her toes curling. That look was meant for him. He knew very well she didn't notice the way people stared at her, she only had eyes for him, but that didn't mean he didn't get a little bit jealous.

 

“I love these little marks…little bits of me all over you...I don't want anyone else sniffing around what's mine…” he growled, not missing the way she grinned at that.

 

Oh, he'd long since learned how she felt, and where most might have been put off by that, she loved hearing it. Made her feel important, let her know that despite what he did, his eyes were always on her. Certainly before her, he'd lost track of the number of partners he'd had, but never someone like her, someone who embraced his past and let him be himself. She trusted him, one of so few to ever do that. Her chest rose and fell visibly, panting louder, ragged like she was searching for air that wasn't there. That was his favorite, the way her whole body responded to him. This was just the beginning, by the end, the whole wing would know what they were up to, he was sure of it.

 

Waiting for her to come down, he felt a strange sense of pride, the sheets already wet, her thighs glistening, hair damp with sweat rolling along her neck and chest. Glancing up, he gave her a little longer to decide if she was ready to say it, though she kept her silence, arousal darkly clouding her gaze, she tested her bonds once more, silently begging for more. He gripped her thigh, his tongue barely touching her, teasing her still. Canting her hips up, she bit her lip, trying so hard for more.

 

“No, no, no my sweet, don't bite your lips, I'll bite them all you like when I'm done…” he sighed.

 

Pointing his tongue, he circled her slowly at first, syncing to the speed of his fingers, sweeping flatly against her then, varying the pressure to avoid giving her a chance to adjust. He had her hovering on the edge, holding back just enough to keep her there whenever she got too close. Her frustrated moans were addictive, her legs trembling, skin raised in goosebumps, a fine sheen of sweat coating her skin. Ah, he could keep teasing her all night, but really he was torturing himself just as much. He could push her over that precipice so easily. Humming pleasantly, he could feel the way she writhed, jerking at the restraints harder, that familiar unspoken desire to keep him there, begging to let her keep that feeling a little longer. Pulling away slowly, he crawled off the bed, untying her, the rope cast to the floor somewhere. Grabbing the key off the dresser, he unlocked her, chuckling at the look of concern on her face.

 

“It's alright. This isn't how I want you right now. I haven't yet decided. You look exceptional on your knees, the view is nice…” he told her. “But there's something I _really_ like about you tangled around me, scratching me up…I love the reminder.”

 

As he promised, he spread over her, biting her lower lip. His teeth scraped lightly against it, almost a battle for dominance as her tongue met his rhythm. He reached down, holding her legs, bringing them around his waist where she locked them firmly, ready for anything he chose to give her. Calla looped her arms around his neck, groaning against his lips when he lined up with her, supporting his weight at her sides. He'd prepared her well, managing to slip in without the usual struggle. At her core, even if he wasn't currently enjoying kissing her, she wouldn't have offered any direction anyway, still a little shy in that aspect. She didn't mind who could hear her, but telling him how she wanted it was something she just didn't do. No trouble to him, not when he knew what she liked and what didn't work, and not when she went along so well with whatever he came up with. Once she was warmed up and ready to go, it was something about how it left her holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling that he liked. Pinning her back against the mattress, the springs creaking louder, he reached between them, his weight resting to one side, calloused thumb striking and circling her clit, her muffled cries coming more frequently. She struggled not to let go, scraping deep tracks down his shoulders. Breaking the kiss, he hissed appreciatively. He bit her earlobe, gasping for her.

 

“That's it, keep going…” he urged.

 

Taking his cue, she dug her nails in, scraping his chest up. Meeting his gaze, he held the contact, spurring her on. Nearly crying his name, he knew that was it. One last time, and she quivered around him, squeezed in her walls, it wasn't long after the third wave that he came, grinding against her a little more before he let up. Now, _this_ was a first. Whether it was her quick breaths or he was just that good, she was completely out. She was mistaken if she thought he wasn't going to use that as a reminder later on. Calla had held out as long as she could, but he still managed to be too much for her. Best to let her rest for now. He slipped out of her, bringing her up against his chest, their mingling sweat igniting the most delicious sting in his wounds. Calla shook her head, looking around curiously.

 

“Weren't we just…?” She mumbled.

 

“We _were_.” He laughed, peppering her cheeks with kisses. “You passed out for a bit.”

 

“Shouldn't I be concerned about that?” She asked nervously.

 

“I like to think you just really enjoyed yourself.” He teased. “When you've had time to rest, we can catch a shower. What do you think about ordering in tonight and watching movies?”

 

Calla smiled brightly at that. “I like the sound of that.” Snuggling closer, she closed her eyes. “I love you.”

 

Zevran swept her hair out of her face, rubbing her side. “I love you too. Only you, you know this, yes?”

 

“I know.” She mumbled. “I think I'm ready for that shower now.”


	6. Anders x Male Hawke (NSFW)

This had to be Anders’ most devious plot yet. No classes to go to, and all he wanted to do was homework. He thought he talked him into setting it aside for a while so they could go out and do something, _anything_. He didn't like sitting around, after all. The signs were there, he wanted his attention after all, got pretty intense, bruising kisses, the way he practically yanked all his clothes off. Even jumped straight to the best parts. Somehow, he fooled him, and he'd been laying there, hands tied to the bed so he couldn't just break free, so hard it ached. To add insult to injury, he'd prepped him and left him stuffed with the thick toy he'd gotten him for his birthday, knowing he left him with no way to do anything meaningful with it. He couldn't get the kind of friction he wanted, couldn't relieve the growing pressure, could barely tear his attention off the work.

“Come on…you're a healer, you can't just leave me like this...don't make me beg…” he groaned.

“Oh. I'm sorry, I thought you implied my talents weren't as useful as they seemed. Besides, _I_ actually want to have free time. I get this done now, I've got all weekend.” He muttered, refusing to look.

“I was wrong, you're _very_ useful. Now please?” He tried again.

“Not good enough. Not by a long shot, Hawke.” He sighed.

Ooh, really mad then. If it wasn't some new pet name, which he complained about, but he actually found quite endearing, it was _always_ at the very least his first name. Last name was reserved for when he was really mad.

“Baby let me make it up to you, what do you want?” He offered hopefully.

Anders finished the paper, slipping in the book and closing it. He set it on the stand by his bed, crossing his arms. “Do you ever listen to me? You would know what I want if you did.”

He said a lot of things, how was he supposed to think clearly when all his blood felt like it had rushed straight to his cock? Struggling with it as best he could, he gave it his best effort.

“Fine, I'll stop wasting money on the dancers…” he mumbled.

“And what else?” He asked.

“We can get a cat…” he sighed heavily.

“Oh, that's good. But I think you can do even better.” He hinted.

“Oh fine, I'll go to my classes at least three times a week...and I'll make sure to look my best when I take you to the dance…” he growled, trying to focus on anything but his discomfort.

Anders walked over to his bed, taking a seat. He gripped his thighs, letting up just enough to allow the barest of touches to crawl up, stopping just shy of touching him.

“You'd better keep your word or next time I'm not going to give in. I'll leave you just like this all weekend and see if you actually explode.” He threatened.

“I swear, I'll keep my word!” He said, raising his hips needily.

“I'll believe you.” He told him. “Now...I suppose I can take care of you. Do you know what I'm going to do?”

“Take this out and give me something better?” He suggested hopefully.

“Eventually. First, you're going to be a dear and put that mouth of yours to better use. _Then_ I'll take care of you. Maybe, if you're really good, I'll even switch with you next time. _If_ you earn it.” He said, grinning wickedly.

Well, that was how he knew he really wanted him to do what he said he would. Anders _never_ let him run the show, no matter how much he tried to talk him into it. He was very particular, he could do just about anything he wanted, Anders following without complaint, but he was king of the bed, what he wanted was law. If he didn't turn him to jelly so easily, he might complain. The rope broke apart, and he realized he'd already cut him loose. He really might have left him if he didn't like how he put his hands to use. Busy undressing, Quinn reached a hand down, startled when his hand was slapped away.

“ _Please_ …” Hawke nearly begged. “Please, just a little…”

Anders shook his head, purposely taking his time with his jeans then, staring at him as if daring him to try again. Honestly he was just lucky he cared enough about him and that there was something he wanted badly enough to do as he was asked. Anders knew that, but it didn't make it even an ounce less satisfying to watch him become so needy. He was a strong willed man who did what he wanted, he could easily have opted not to listen to him. That he chose to said he had to be pretty important to him after all. Tossing the last of his clothes off the bed, he ran his fingers through his hair, twisting it between his fingers.

“Let me see how badly you want it.” He said.

Bringing him down, his hand shot out, curling his length tightly, seconds before he guided his mouth down. Letting go of his hair he leaned back to get a better view. His head bobbing eagerly, tongue tracing the head down, cheeks hollowed around it. That combined with the skillful twisting strokes of his slightly rough hand nearly made him throw his plans out. Damn, he was good. Hawke gazed up at him, silently begging for him to help. If he was really that bad off, then he supposed it was in the job description to help him. Just him in this way, anyone else could figure it out themselves. Reluctantly, he lifted his head up, sighing.

“Take it out, let's see if you're still good or if you need a touch up.” He directed.

Quinn wasted no time pulling it out, baring his back to him. He reached for the pillows, stretching his front out comfortably. Anders tested the waters, starting out with two fingers. Not much resistance, he added a third, spreading them slowly and cautiously. Hawke pushed back against him with a moan. He still felt pretty good, but a little more might not be a bad idea. Anders pulled twisted slightly to reach the tube tucked away under the bottom of the mattress, flicking the lid open. He coated it thickly along his shaft, closing it and tossing it on the pile of clothes.

“Ready for me?” He asked.

“I’ve _been_ ready this whole time.” He reminded him.

Anders pulled his fingers free, leaning over him. His hand slid over his chest, down his stomach, slow, drawing out his tension a little longer. Before he could try to say anything, he gave in, gripping him firmly, distracting him from his sudden entry. He bit the pillowcase, groaning shakily. For all the begging he did, he certainly didn't like being treated gently, not like this. No, but you can be sure the unbreakable Quinn Hawke was absolutely a big baby if he so much as got a tiny scrape, he just hid it very well until he was alone. He ground himself back against him, apparently unhappy with how slow and easy he was being.

“Not a ‘making love’ kind of man, are you?” He teased.

“I _could_ have been if you didn't make me wait so long.” He whined.

“Oh, so if I fuck you into the mattress now, you'll let me take my time then?” He asked playfully.

“ _Yes_ , sure, anything you want!” He gasped.

“In that case...hold on.” He said.

Anders gripped his hips tightly, bucking against him harder. He folded against him, biting roughly at the nape of his neck, down between his flexing shoulders. Pent up for too long, he whimpered, warm bursts coating his hand, the sheets a casualty. Lifting back up, he braced himself upright, concerned he'd slip and throw him off. He really was lucky he had such a responsive drive, though at times it fell short of his. He'd had to rush on occasion to avoid completely wearing him out. Long before he ever came here, he'd been a Warden, and many told tales of the enviable stamina and sexual prowess. They were not untrue. At worst, he could last for a few hours. On a good day, he could easily keep Hawke busy several times throughout the entirety of the day _and_ night. More often though, he tapped out, tired and sore.

“Still holding up alright?” He panted.

“ _Holding up_? Give me a few minutes and I'll be awake again.” He said with a grin.

Must be a rare occasion. Usually it took him a fair bit longer to get back up. Letting up on his left hip for a moment, he brushed his fingers against him, the faint pulsing just under the skin all the verification he needed. There was a thought, he wasn't about to let him take charge, not today at least, but maybe he could give him a small reward anyway.

“Work on it and I'll give you something special…” he said.

Hawke gave him a wide eyed stare over his shoulder, not waiting for a second invitation. Anders’ rough pace helped, rocking between his hand and his lover, it wasn’t more than a few minutes before he was hard again. Anders pulled his hand away, light electric tingles pulsing through with every stroke. By far that was one of his favorite tricks. In a pinch, if he was short on time, he could rush a quick one, but this, this was versatile, he could get him off quicker like this or leaving him begging for that sweet release like a madman. Anders pulled out slowly, pushing him down. He groaned in surprise, rolled over to face him. Shifting down the bed, he stared up at him. So that's what the surprise was. Well, it was working. Teasing his tongue around and against him, he took him slowly, sucking hard, but not too hard, occasionally letting up to dart his tongue against down. He clasped his length firmly, moving with his head, setting a quick pace that left him reeling.

“Fuck, if you don't slow down you're gonna make me--” he rasped.

His words were cut at the sight of him, eyes intently fixed on his. Seeing him like that was almost too much, his hair down from his usual ponytail, damp from sweat, his eyes dark with lust, pupils blown wide. His hips jerked involuntarily, slipping deeper. Pulling trying to pull back, he had no chance to warn him before he was already coming again. Drawing his head back with a wet pop, he swallowed, smirking appreciatively at the almost awed look he was receiving. Laying over him, he tugged his hair, earning him another whimpering moan, bucking back into him to chase his own end once more. His knees came up, tightly clenched at his sides, urgently clutching his arms. Overstimulated, it seemed. Normally he might have to struggle to hurry, but he'd been plenty worked up just watching him before, it wouldn't be much longer. Quinn lifted, rolling against him, his muscles tensing around him, trying to pull him down with him. Hawke smirked, he knew how to push him just that last bit too far.

“Don't hold it back babe, I want it…” he growled.

His rhythm grew reckless, haphazardly pounding into him, shuddering, panting, he came, slowing, but not stopping until well after the last of it was already leaking out around him. He sighed, twisting Free to lay against him, both completely quiet until they caught their breath. Anders glanced up lazily, patting his shoulder.

“When you've rested, we should shower. We're leaving as soon as we're done. I don't want to hear that you can't walk this time.” He said.

“What? Where are we going?” He asked.

“We're getting a cat. Your words.” He said pointedly.

 


	7. Lavellan x Cullen (NSFW)

Aria came out of her room, her uniform replaced with a long shirt and shorts and a pair of grey leggings today. About to take a seat, she realized this wasn't right. 

 

“Ah! Right. Did you want something to drink? I have water, tea, wine, milk or coffee…I think I'm out of apple juice…” she offered. “Do I...am I supposed to take your coat?” 

 

Certainly there were humans she spent a fair bit of time with, but this was the first time a teacher, he had come to visit. Fenris was probably out on a job, and Legato was certainly still out of the country. Cullen was busy looking over the pictures on the mantle, his coat draped over his arm. 

 

“Hm? Coffee is fine. I can take care of this if there's a place you'd prefer it goes.” He said. 

 

There's a few hooks on the wall by the door.” She said. “I'll go make it. Should be a few minutes.” 

 

Hanging his coat up, he returned to the pictures, trying to figure out who the people were. The Dalish valued family, that much he knew. Surely the large group was the entire clan, but the others had fewer people, her family, if he had to guess. Aria stopped next to him, smiling a little. 

 

“Do you like pictures?” She asked. 

 

“I don't think I've heard anything about your family, I was just curious.” He admitted. 

 

“Ah, well…” she mumbled. Starting from the left, she pointed to each person. “My mother and father, aunt, uncle, grandfather and grandmother...my cousins…” 

 

Before she reached the last, he pointed to it, mildly surprised. “Siblings. Looks like a twin brother?” 

 

Aria shook her head slowly. “That's Legato, he's away in the Free Marches for another week, I think. This is Nocturne.” 

 

His eyes widened at that. Not twins after all then. “So...that means…” 

 

“Triplets. Multiples run in my family, as I understand it. See? My mother and her sister are twins. And over here, from my cousins? Twins again.” She explained. 

 

The noise of the machine reminded her that the coffee was done brewing, spinning on her heel to go pour it. 

 

“Black, right? No milk or sugar?” She asked. 

 

“Yes, that's right.” He said. 

 

She walked out again, a cup in each hand, her steps slow and careful. Setting one down on the stand beside the couch. She set hers on the opposite side, taking a seat. He sat next to her, smiling a little when Aria moved to hold his hand. He had definitely noticed a distinct difference between how she was on stage versus any other time. Aria came off as shy and uncertain when it came to him at least, still trying to figure out the intricacies of what was acceptable. So far they'd managed to make things work, it was a risk, but they'd spent small breaks between classes and lunch hours together where they could. It was his decision to try for more time together. He'd been to Rebellion more in the last week than he had in his entire life, surely. Behind the coffee bar, she was much the same as ever, but once she was on deck, it was like she was someone else. Her clothes alone were vastly different, almost flashy, and there was an energy to her he never would have felt at the university. This was probably her at her most relaxed. Cullen couldn't really say for sure, this was his first time visiting her place. Not one for being distracted, she opted to get a house off campus, and she explained that Fenris didn't keep normal hours, and with the extra space, he'd taken her offer to move in. Her brother's name was visible on one of the doors, apparently he lived there too, if he guessed. 

 

You mentioned a sister, does she live here too?” He asked, trying not to focus too much on the way she looked. This was new for him, he kept plenty busy and he'd never made time for  _ ‘personal’  _ relationships. Maybe it was the time they'd spent sneaking hasty kisses, but he almost couldn't help but want to, when they were this close. Yet he didn't really want to give her the impression that was the extent of his interest in her. 

 

“No, Nocturne isn't comfortable around humans. She wants to go to the university too, but she's working up to it. I sent her a few pictures, and it seems she mentioned being intimidated by Iron Bull too…I told her he's mostly harmless, and she'd be fine as long as she stayed away from the lunchroom, but she's not ready yet.” She explained with a sigh. 

 

“I suppose it could be a bit overwhelming, if you're not used to it.” He agreed. 

 

Aria licked her lips nervously, moving a little bit closer, her side just barely touching his. It appeared she wasn't quite as interested in talking anymore. He found it strangely charming that she hadn't quite worked up to simply telling him what it was she wanted. She turned to face him, lightly squeezing his hand. Trying not to laugh at how serious she was trying to appear, he closed the gap between them, his lips barely brushing hers at first, letting her set the tone. Her other hand loosely clutched his shoulder, pulling him down with her, making use of the comfort and space the plush sofa offered. Deepening the kiss, his hand roamed her side experimentally, slow in case she wasn't comfortable with it. Her eyes closed, and it took a bit to register the light contact of her leg against his side. This too was a new side of her, maybe it was just that this place was familiar to her, but he could swear she was much more relaxed than usual. Letting go of his hand, her touch hesitant and brief like she couldn't decide where to put her hands, settling restlessly against his chest, wandering in firmer circles then. Aria moaned quietly, the sound unexpected, a shock that left his brain completely unsure what to do with it. His hand slid under the edge of her shirt, raising it bit by bit. He could feel the heat of her skin, realizing a bit too late what he was doing. He quickly pulled away, shaking his head. 

 

“Maker, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…” he began. 

 

“You didn't?” She asked. 

 

Was that disappointment in her tone? Was she really bothered by it? 

 

“I...well...uh…” he mumbled, trying to think what he meant to say. “Did you actually want me to?” 

 

Aria nodded almost guiltily, her hands resting on her thighs, giving the impression she gathered he was about to leave. It was too much, this was definitely moving too quickly. Then again...there wasn't a lot to worry about here, it was off campus, on their free time, not much anyone could really say or do about it, and she was willing. He'd waited this long, hadn't really thought he'd ever want this, let alone anticipated the chance would ever present itself. Maybe he'd regret it, or she would, but that wasn't something he'd find out without trying. Reaching out, he grasped the bottom of her shirt, tugging it up slowly, in case she changed her mind. Instead, she raised her arms, letting him pull it off. Accident or not, the picture didn't do her justice, beautiful felt like too mild a word, but it was hard enough to think, there was time later to hunt for the right words. Man, it was getting really hot in here… 

 

Cullen loosened his tie, pulling it off, barely concerned where it went. Cursing the buttons on his shirt, he tried to be quick about it, but they were being stubborn, and he sighed in frustration when the last was undone, tossing it to the floor with a glare. When he looked up, he froze, barely aware of anything save the absence of her bra. Her face was a deep pink, unable to look at him, like she wasn't sure what he might think. Pushing her back down again, he kissed her hungrily, kneading her breasts firmly, her nipples stiffening at the contact, panting softly. Pressing against her, he bit her lip, soothing the spot gently. There was just so much of her he wanted to touch and explore, and he found himself wishing he had a few more hands. Regretfully moving on, he grasped her hips, pulling her up against him for a moment, breaking the kiss to follow her neck, nipping gently. His fingers played along the band of her shorts, debating if he really wanted her out of them. He did, but it felt like a turning point, if he did that, it carried weight, like he should be willing to follow through if he did. She lifted her hips and without thinking, he began to pull them off, taking her panties with them. All consideration had gone from his mind, dropping her clothes to the floor, his heart in his throat when he touched her. The room was hot, but her skin felt like fire, her head tipped back against the arm of the couch, whining softly at his curious probing. Cullen slowly pressed a finger in, feeling the way she clenched around him, responding to him completely. 

 

He, like most everyone else had taken sex ed, he knew  _ what _ to do, he'd just...never done it. Right now it was a task to find a balance between being too eager and being too cautious. He slipped another finger in, feeling her arch against his hand, her head turned to present more of herself to him, all of her quiet moans his sign that he wasn't doing too badly at least. Spreading inside her, he sped up just a little, adding to the force behind it, earning a loud gasp of approval. Her body flushed a soft rosy color, her fingers digging against his shoulders, shaking visibly, slowing to a stop when her cries grew more urgent, her senses completely raw and overwhelmed. Cullen took the opportunity to pull away, standing to work his belt loose, kicking off his shoes and socks hurriedly. Unsteadily, Aria got up, crossing the room to his confusion. She grabbed a small black music player, plugging it in and turning it on. It wasn't particularly loud, clear that she recalled he wasn't a fan of a lot of noise, but he could feel the floor vibrating from it. Well, she did like music, who was he to say anything about it. Stepping out of his slacks, he felt a surge of embarrassment. Aria was the first to see him naked, and it made him uneasy. She said nothing, and it made him nervous, though she smiled, returning to him, a decent enough indication that she wasn't exactly displeased at least. 

 

“If no one else is here, why the music?” He asked curiously. 

 

It made sense if she didn't want anyone to guess what she was up to, but they were alone right now. Aria looked away, wringing her hands with that same sense of guilt from before. 

 

“I…um...it's.” She sighed, switching to twisting locks of her hair almost obsessively. “Melolagnia.” 

 

“What's that?” He wondered, unfamiliar with the word. 

 

“You’ll think it's weird…” she murmured. 

 

“I won't. You have my word, whatever it is isn't enough to chase me off.” He laughed. 

 

“It's…ugh…” she groaned, wondering why it was so hard. “The music turns me on.” 

 

Cullen had never heard of that, but it wasn't anything that put him off. It made a strange sense to him, although he had to wonder if that made her job difficult to do. Not just that, but when he'd gone to see her play the club, didn't that mean she'd spent the entire night uncomfortably aroused? He had so many questions suddenly, but they could wait. 

 

“Then come here, let me help you…” he said. 

 

He held a hand out to her, pulling her closer when he took it. Aria gently pushed him to sit down. He watched her curiously, moving to straddle him, the smooth feel of her leggings strangely pleasant. Trying to help, he reached in the small space, holding himself steady for her. Sinking down slowly, she bit her lip, her breathing shaky. He slid an arm around her waist, burying a hand in her hair, drawing her in for another kiss, unable to resist the desire to feel them again, groaning when she started to move. Her pace was slow, rolling her hips easily, then raising, an easy to follow rhythm. He could guess she had a better idea than he did at least, and he felt a slight sting of jealousy wondering where, or more accurately,  _ who _ she learned it from. That thought disappeared in moments, grinding against him faster, harder, the wet heat wrapping him more than enough to drive everything but her far from his mind. Letting go of her hair, he reached down, rubbing against her as best he could, rewarded with a pleased whimper, the roughness of his skin offering the perfect amount of friction. He broke the kiss, his breath warm against her neck, his stubble scratching slightly upward towards her ear. Cullen nipped at her lobe, growling eagerly, eliciting the most intoxicating little moan he'd heard from her, shivering intensely. So that was one of her weak spots, something he intended to file away for later. That was something he was more than willing to use against her, even on campus. He guessed what he said didn't matter, but he was certain he could get a response from her without drawing unwanted attention. Careful with her nails, she gripped his shoulders tightly, her skin prickling in goosebumps. 

 

“Cullen, I…” she sighed breathily. “I can't hold it anymore…” 

 

His grip on her waist tightened, pulling her against him harder, not quite sure how much longer he could last as it was. 

 

“It's alright…” he assured her. He wasn't quite sure how well it would go over, but he'd heard plenty of things he wished he hadn't at the time, if it worked, maybe the embarrassment was worth it. “Cum for me…” 

 

Aria turned a bright pink, her eyes wide, staring at him. Almost as though that was all she was waiting for, she leaned into him, her whole body quivering, her walls pulsing around him. Adjusting his hold to her hips, he helped guide her just a little longer, his head falling back against the back of the couch, marking her inside, lazily bucking into her a few more times before he slipped from her, bringing her to rest with him. Cullen felt a little guilty for hoping this wasn't simply a one time thing, it had all felt like it happened too fast to inquire about her intentions at the time. 

 

“That was…” he sighed, his breathing slowly returning to normal. “I don't even know.” 

 

Aria gave him an apprehensive smile, tilting her head slightly. “I'm not sure if that means it was good or bad…” 

 

He laughed more to himself than anything. “It was more than good.” 

 

“I'm glad then.” She giggled. 

 

“So...I hope it's not too bold to ask this so quickly, but I'd really like to know, is this just a one off or…?” He trailed off. 

 

“I'm guessing you're asking because you'd rather it wasn't?” She asked. “I don't really see a problem with it continuing…” 

 

“Oh, good.” He sighed, relieved. “I was hoping…” 

 

Aria seemed to remember something important, moving off his lap. Touching the side of her cup, she frowned. “Ah, I'm sorry, the coffee got cold.” 

 

Reminded of it, he glanced to his cup. Honestly, he'd completely forgotten about it, but he didn't really mind if it was cold, she'd went through the trouble to make it, it was fine. Not knowing when someone might show up was a bit of an issue though. He took a drink, then sorted through the pile to find his clothes, focused on getting dressed first. He made a mental note to iron his clothes later, he didn't particularly care if his everyday clothes got wrinkled, but his suits had to be nice for work. Aria glanced to the floor, tossing her bra into a laundry basket down the hall, putting her shirt back on, reluctantly wiggling back into her shorts. 

 

“So...I'm just curious, about the music...why so much of it if it...you know?” He asked. 

 

“I did say I didn't think I could live without it. I love performing, I love playing at the club, the energy it gives people is...that's a magic all its own. And to me, I've learned to speak through it, if I can't say something, I'm always able to say it with a song, there's a song for everything. It's just...the language I'm most fluent in, i guess.” She said with an awkward laugh. 

 

“I think I can understand that much. Am I correct in assuming you're also the most ‘you’ when you're on stage?” He wondered. 

 

“Definitely. I don't feel as self-conscious, or like I'm bound by what's expected of me.” She admitted. 

 

Grabbing her cup, she took a drink anyway, instead of just dumping it out and refilling it like she meant to originally. 

 

“Is it alright to ask what you're doing tomorrow?” He asked. 

 

“Tomorrow? I have work for a few hours, but not much else. Did you want to do something?” She said, finishing off the contents of her cup.

 

“I thought...uh...if it wasn't too forward, maybe you'd like to come over for dinner?” He mumbled. 

 

“You cook? I didn't know that.” She said. “Sure, that sounds good.” 

 

“I do. Is that surprising?” He replied with a laugh. “Alright. I can pick you up after work then.” Eyeing the clock on the wall, he sighed. “I suppose I should go, I'm sorry my visit was short tonight. I have to write down my schedule for the week and prepare the materials.” 

 

“Oh, no. I understand, I'm happy enough that you find time for me at all.” She said. 

 

Getting up again, she went to grab his coat for him and see him off for the night. She hadn't eaten yet, now that she thought about it, maybe she'd order a pizza, Fenris would probably be glad for that. She couldn't eat a whole pizza anyway. If nothing else, Quinn was always willing to make the drive if it meant free food. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, for once I wrote a Lavellan that wasn't a virgin. Not sure if it'll even matter, but if it does, I'll totally explain who she's been sleeping with before?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty set on most of the pairings, but there's a small chance of other stuff happening I guess. Not sure at this point yet.


End file.
